So Much More Than That
by Alex E. Andras
Summary: He wondered what had ever taken the elf, what had possessed him to turn from a carefree life to wield that weapon as though it were an extension of his arm.' Erestor considers Glorfindel.


Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to Tolkien.

Summary: 'He wondered what had ever taken the elf, what had possessed him to turn from a care-free life to wield that weapon as though it were an extension of his arm.' Erestor considers Glorfindel.

So Much More Than That

It was hard to look at him and realise who he was.

A long limbed, blond elf lounged against the trunk of a great willow on the banks of the river, his blue eyes glazed and distant in sleep, and his golden locks cascading in a graceful fall around his shoulders. One long leg stretched out before him, the other bent upwards so that he could rest one arm upon it, and within the hand of this arm he held a fishing rod.

Erestor wondered how he could sleep like that, but remembered then that the other elf had been on numerous pursuits across the land, and had no doubt slept in more uncomfortable positions and on much more dangerous terrain than this quiet river bank.

A smile drew his lips upwards as a dragonfly darted across the river and then hovered millimetres above the tip of his friend's nose. The blond continued to sleep, unaware of the insect, and Erestor wondered at the grace and innocence of the older elf, who appeared much younger than his years at this moment.

His eyes strayed to the sword on the ground beside the blond, and the smile departed from his face as he once again recalled that this sleeping creature was a highly trained, strong-willed elf who no doubt had stained his hands with more blood than that which coursed through his veins. He wondered then what had ever taken the elf, what had possessed him to turn from a more care-free life to wield that weapon as though it were just a mere extension of his arm, of his soul.

His eyes hardened as he remembered the shadow that had hovered over their heads for many years, the reason why many had fought, why many had died, and although the shadow was gone and threat had passed, he knew – as did they all – that it would someday return. It was the reason why his friend had picked up the sword, the reason why he still kept a hold of it.

The blond elf stirred slightly, and the dragonfly darted away for a minute, before returning to hover above the elf's nose again.

Erestor snorted. The sound startled the blond elf, who instantly went from sleep to being fully alert in the time it took him to grasp his sword. His eyes darted around, before finally coming to rest on the daring dragonfly at his nose, and he glared at it cross-eyed

"I am sure that you will invoke the fear in the heart of that poor creature!" Erestor snickered, and the dragonfly darted away as Glorfindel bristled, sending a glare to the dark haired elf instead.

"Have you been sat there?" he inquired, the glare evaporating as he stretched his long frame out.

"If you wish me to leave—" Erestor started, moving to rise. The thin fingers of Glorfindel caught his hand, and he settled back onto the ground beside the blond, a smile on his face as he leant back against the tree.

"I should not be here," he stated firmly, "There are the kitchens to over-see and documents that need to be looked over and re-written and-"

"And you do too much work," Glorfindel cut in smoothly and softly, one finger going out to rest in front of the dark haired elf's lips, while the blue eyes met the grey ones. "Lord Elrond requested that you rest, and I shall see that you do."

"You have rested more than I so far!" Erestor snorted.

"And whose fault is that?" Glorfindel teased. "It is not my fault if one is too tight to relax every now and then."

"I am not tight," Erestor bristled, pushing at the other elf. Glorfindel laughed as he rose in one slow and graceful movement, stretching out again. He held out a hand to Erestor, and the younger elf raised an eyebrow before taking the hand, allowing himself to be pulled up onto his feet as the elder elf threw an arm around the younger, laughing happily.

"Aphado nin, mellon-nîn," he said, "We shall go to the Hall of Fire and you shall relax."

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Translations

Aphado nin, mellon-nîn – Follow me, my friend.


End file.
